


Blindsided (Beautiful in Red, Black, and Blue)

by ParallelSkies



Series: Even If It's a Different Space [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Crossposted on AFF, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn With Plot, Post-Divorce, Smut, The writer is still trash, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, bottom!Yuta, top!Taeyong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 18:32:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11213808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParallelSkies/pseuds/ParallelSkies
Summary: Perhaps it was a mistake to say hello, because now it seems impossible to say goodbye.





	Blindsided (Beautiful in Red, Black, and Blue)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sincerely thankful for the people who enjoyed With(out) You (Heartbreak Hotel)~ Truthfully speaking, I kind of like it the best out of all the other YuTae stuff I've written, which is why I've chosen to expand on it a bit. I know some people wanted a sequel, but I live to disappoint LOL. I've written a prequel covering the night YuTae started their messed up arrangement instead.

Even after so many years of living in Korea, the radiant sight of Seoul's cityscape at night never fails to take Yuta's breath away. The Japanese man stands on the hotel balcony alone, silently admiring the beauty of black on black and neon in the distance despite the somewhat chilly weather. Eventually, he sighs as the pangs of nostalgia become too much to bear, hugging himself more tightly as an unexpected gust of wind sweeps over him.

He's been in love with his current home, Busan, since the day he moved thereー it's breathtakingly beautiful in its own way, and there's something utterly _charming_ about the lifestyle and culture thereー but there's something undeniably _special_ about Seoul. After all, it was his home for almost a decade; it was the place where he attended university, met some life-changing people, and underwent some life-changing experiences. Seoul is full of so many good memories, memories of _youth, joy, and love_...

Maybe that's why being back after so long _hurts_. In remembering the good that happened in this gorgeous city, Yuta also remembers the bad. Seoul is full of bad memories, too, memories of _distance, sadness, and broken promises_... 

He left the place he once considered paradise in hopes of healing. But maybe the wounds have yet to totally heal.

With that thought, the Japanese man grimaces and begins to rub his temples. He never should've agreed to attend this function, but he was never good at saying no to people in positions of power.

Yuta tenses as he hears the door open behind him but doesn't turn around. He bites his lip anxiously. He's a social butterfly at heart, but he's just _not_ in the mood to entertain anyone right now, not with so much on his mind and the sense of _not belonging anymore_ weighing his spirits down.

"If you're not going to socialize and enjoy the function, at least make the most of the _free alcohol_ before waltzing off. Seems to me like you need another drink to calm your raging thoughts." Yuta snorts unattractively as he hears his longtime friend, Johnny, spout some fucked up words of wisdom. He turns to address the tall American man, only to have another glass of champagne shoved into his hand.

"How _kind_ of you, hyung," Yuta drawls, squinting up at the tall elder. "You know," he starts again after taking a polite sip, "I really can't believe you're a software architect sometimes. How your brain manages to function so well even with all the alcohol you consume is beyond me."

Johnny simply winks at the younger man. "I'm a _tank_ , my dude," he chuckles before casually downing his sixth glass of wine. His smiling eyes take on a more serious glint after he lowers his glass. "Hey, Yuta?"

"Oh, yes?" said man hums against the rim of his glass distractedly. The champagne Johnny's been supplying him with on and off throughout the night could easily be the stuff _dreams_ are made of, the sweet, star-like, bubbly beverage warming his insides pleasantly and soothing his frayed nerves. "You shouldn't be feeding me so many good drinks," Yuta complains half-heartedly. "I feel like I'm going to have _regrets_ in the morningー"

"It really is good to see you hereー in _person_ , in _Seoul_ again, I mean," Johnny cuts in, reaching out to squeeze the other man's shoulder with sincere fondness. "Are you..." he hesitates, "are you feeling... _better_ now? It's probably awkward and uncomfortable, I'm guessingー"

"I could definitely be _better_ , that's for sure," the Japanese man remarks in a sharp but quiet voice. "I'll figure things out _on my own_ soon enough, though."

The American man opens his mouth as if to say more, but he settles for a short nod. If Yuta wants some space, then he'll respectfully give him some space. So the elder wordlessly retracts his hand, pries the now empty glass from his dongsaeng's stiff fingers, and walks away. 

Yuta feels _guilty_ then. He knows he shouldn't be taking his frustration out on innocent people, especially his _friends_. He briefly remembers how _ecstatic_ he was to run into Johnny earlier that night; the elder has always been so approachable and charismatic and just plain _nice_ in every sense of the word. He'd made Yuta feel welcome by doing things like introducing him to his new husbandー an upcoming Thai artist by the name of Chittaphon, or "Ten", for shortー and cheerfully providing good drinks and good company.

His kind hyung was just trying to _help_.

He and so many others had reached out to him in the past when the wounds were first opened and when they were at their worst, but he'd mostly shut them out. He _hated_ being _pitied_ , _hated_ feeling like a _burden_. Besides, most of them were _**his** _friends first, and it would've been wrong to make them take sides, albeit unintentionally.__

__Yuta was in denial then._ _

__Maybe he's still in denial now._ _

That doesn't mean he can't start making amends, though. "Hyung, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to act like a brat," Yuta calls after the retreating figure contritely. His averts his gaze self-consciously when Johnny whips around with a raised eyebrow.

"You've been a short, princely brat since the day we met, Yuta. I know what to expect when dealing with _your_ rude ass," the American man replies in an easy, good-natured voice. "Anyway, you didn't offend me in the slightest. I _do_ need to get back to my husband, though. We're dipping out early to head to the cinema."

"That's _nice_ ," Yuta murmurs, not knowing what else to say. It's been forever since he last went to the cinema, and for a _date_ , too. The thought of a happy couple going on a date shouldn't affect Yuta much. Unfortunately, it _does_. "Thanks for taking my glass in. I think I'm going to stay out here for a few more minutes. Have a good night, Johnny-hyung, and tell Ten I said goodnight, too," he finishes with a tight, saccharine smile.

"Night, Yuta. Cheers to you. You look as fabulous as ever. Do keep in touch." Johnny goofily raises both of the empty glasses in Yuta's direction and wags his eyebrows before taking his leave.

 

____

 

After a few more minutes of introspection, Yuta tires of the now strong winds branding cold into his skin and heads back inside. Weaving his way through the masses of Korea's most wealthy and important, he arrives near the exit of the grand ballroom with little trouble. He impulsively grabs another glass of champagne as a server passes by. One last drink before heading out  _never_ hurt anybody, after all.

Just as he is about to throw his drink back, Yuta catches sight of _**him**_ just a few feet away. It's a businessman, a rather young, pale,  _tragically handsome_ one dressed in black accented with red. The Japanese man almost drops the glass in _shock_ when the familiar figure catches sight of him and goes quite _rigid_ , too.

Why didn't Johnny warn him **he** was here?

Oh, he knows those dark, twinkling eyes _intimately_ , and Yuta can't help but feel knots form in his stomach as he watches the other man simply _watch him_ with reciprocal amazement. For a moment, Yuta wants to smack himself. Or Johnny for not saying something earlier. Then again, he should've known the other man would be here given his reputation in Korea's business world...

Lee Taeyong, his _estranged ex-husband_.

The weight of Taeyong's stare _compels_ Yuta to act, to do _something, anything_. So Yuta downs his glass and approaches bravely with intention, steps measured, head held high, and an artfully crafted, _stunning_ smile on his face.

The Korean man meets him halfway in that characteristically posh stride of his after downing his own drink and excusing himself from a small group of other guests. In mere seconds, they stand before each other, the distance between them borderline _impolite_.

Yuta bows politely to the still dumbfounded elder. "It's been a long time, Lee Taeyong-ssi," he greets bashfully, doing his best to maintain his brilliant smile despite his nervousness. "How are you? Your business...?"

"It has been a long time, hasn't it, Yuta?" Taeyong returns softly, dipping his head in semblance of a bow. "I'm... fine. My business is, too. My career is going well, and I'm... _happy_. How is your modeling...?"

The younger's man's smile falters at the use of only his first name. He hadn't expected his ex-husband to use it; he's typically quite the gentleman, so for him to be so _forward_ and _informal_ is _disarming_. Feeling flustered, Yuta clears his throat and continues the conversation. "I don't model myself anymore... I do mentor aspiring models, but I mainly devote my time to charity work these days. It's my passion," he reveals. "I've recently become a spokesperson for a charity that benefits orphans and abandoned children in Korea. I'm really happy with my career, and..."

The _confidence_ and _sincerity_  reflected in his ex-husband's melodic voice coupled with his _unfairly breathtaking appearance_ leaves a listening Taeyong _reeling_ inside. The man before him is a _changed_ one, a _revitalized_ one, a _complete stranger_ in a way, and he's _so, so close_ that he can't think straight. "That's good, Yuta. I'm happy for you," the Korean man states in a tone much blander and insincere-sounding than desired. He winces a little, and he doesn't miss how Yuta mirrors the action.

The thick atmosphere is charged with tension. It's _oppressive_ , almost. Very uncomfortable, and definitely _nostalgic_ of their last years together. Yuta dares to gulp, and he almost bites his cheek in worry when he notices Taeyong track the movement of his Adam's apple with an unreadable, _intense_ gaze. 

_Leave._

_Not ready._

_Nothing between you._

_Every hello needs to end in goodbye, anyway._

_Warning bells are ringing._

"Well, I... should get going. I do hope you have a good rest of your night." Yuta wantsー no, _needs_ to get away. After a year of separation and starting over in a new city, he thought he would be strong and ready enough to talk if he were to encounter his ex-husband again.

Obviously, he was wrong. Taeyong doesn't seem very interested in talking to him, which is probably why he's acting strangely, so Yuta should just take his leave and spare them both from anymore _discomfort_. Against his better judgment, he offers a timid smile and handshake instead of bowing again.

Taeyong's not one to play with fire, but the opportunity to _touch_ has presented itself, and he'd be a fool not to take it. He wordlessly shakes the younger man's slightly cold hand, reveling in the intimate feeling of skin against his. It's just a _handshake_ , but it leaves him feeling _desperate_ and _short of breath_ somehow.

Yuta looks _heartbreakingly beautiful_ in his black and blue ensemble. His fair skin is also flushed from the alcohol and chilly weather; he was probably outside not too long ago, assuming he still has a penchant for admiring cityscapes from balconies. And loose brown curls frame an angelic face he suddenly _yearns_ to touch, _if only for a second_...

In that moment, Taeyong knows what he has to do, or at least _try_ to do, for his sanity's sake.

"Oh, where are my manners? I forgot to give you my card." The Korean man takes his business card out after retracting his hand. He prays that the Japanese man will take the bait and fall into the trap he's already setting up in his mind.

Never one to disappoint, Yuta takes it _perfectly_. A moment later, the younger man is an adorable little mess, stuttering apologies and presenting his own card sheepishly. With a self-assured flourish that betrays the _erratic_ beat of his heart, Taeyong simultaneously pockets the other man's card and slips his own into the other's breast pocket, giving it a pat for good measure. "It'll be good to have each other's contact information in case _future business possibilities_ present themselves," he says smoothly.

"I... indeed," Yuta whispers in return. He's rooted to his spot, and he can't bring himself to jerk away even when the elder grips his wrist out of the blue. "Taeyong?" he questions, unsettled by the awfully audacious gesture.

The sound of his first name coming from those beautiful lips after so long gives Taeyong the last bit of courage he needs to move things forward. "The night is still young. Why don't we... _catch up_ in private? I don't have anyone waiting for me, and I'm guessing you don't, either?"

_Don't make the wrong decision._

_Don't follow._

_Something sinful this way comes._

Time is still. Amid internal strife, Yuta seals his fate with a single, deferential nod. Then he is gone, dragged away from the crowd and safety by a man possessed.

 

____

 

Taeyong's heart _thrums_ in anticipation as he impatiently unlocks the door to his hotel room with one quivering hand. His other one is still covetously wrapped around Yuta's delicate wrist. The younger man is just as excited as he is; the _wild_ pulse he feels through that thin wrist is a dead giveaway.

The two men soundlessly step through the threshold and hurriedly remove their shoes and blazers. However, neither move to turn on the lights. The Korean man turns to regard his ansty companion. "Why don't I get you a drink?" Taeyong offers coolly, already on his way to the small dining area.

The Japanese man clicks his tongue at the thought of more alcohol. He shakes his head and half-smirks. "I've had enough for the night, thank you... May I sit?"

"On the _bed_." When he fails to hear any movement, Taeyong whips around and fixes a frozen Yuta with a stern glare. "Unless you're having _second thoughts_ , I suggest you be a _good boy_ and wait for me." He then busies himself with pouring a glass of scotch.

He takes his time with this task. He smiles in satisfaction as soon as he hears the sound of soft footsteps padding over lush carpet. Taeyong tosses back the scotch without second thought.

On a normal day, he would scold himself for treating such high-quality alcohol so _carelessly_. He can't be bothered now, however.

There's something else he's eager to _appreciate_ and _savor_. And so he twists his burning lips into a seductive smile and saunters over to the bed where his lover for the night awaits.

Yuta can feel the blush on his face intensify with every step Taeyong takes towards him. After what seems like forever, the elder is kneeling between his parted knees, staring up at him appraisingly. The warmth radiating off of his body leaves Yuta feeling _lightheaded_. "It's hard to believe you don't have a lover. You look _ravishing_ ," the Korean man coos. "How long has it been since your last...?"

Yuta can't lieー not here, not now, not to _him_. _He's weak, utterly weak_. "A _year_ ," the Japanese man chokes out as a naughty finger traces over the buttons of his slacks. "I haven't been with anyone. Haven't had the time to... And _you_?"

Taeyong snorts dismissively. "No one. I, too, have been quite _busy_ this past year..." He makes for a dominating figure as he stands. He just hovers over the younger man, shamelessly basking in the feeling of _power_.

_He can't wait to tear into Yuta._

_But he must first set some boundaries._

"I don't love you anymore, you know," Taeyong states dryly. "But that doesn't mean I won't respect you. Be good for me, and I'll give you whatever you want..." He tenderly reaches out to tuck those pretty curls behind Yuta's ears and almost _lurches_ back in _bewilderment_.

He must be seeing things. His ex-husband surely wouldn't be wearing _those_.

"Please, _don't_ look at me that way. And before you _jump to conclusions_ , know that I don't love you either," Yuta snaps, reaching up with one hand to finger his onyx and sapphire earrings defensively. "I'm only wearing them because they go well with my outfit."

"It's funny how you're wearing my last anniversary gift to you. _Absolutely fucking hilarious, actually_." Yuta eyes Taeyong warily as the elder speaks with dark amusement. "I'm guessing you didn't notice my ring?"

Yuta cocks his head in confusion, arousal momentarily forgotten. "Your _ring_? You're wearing several ringsー" The words die on his tongue as soon as he spots _it_.

Taeyong's always had a penchant for wearing multiple rings, but the ring currently on his right ring finger is none other than the ruby one _Yuta_ had gifted him for their last anniversary. _"Goes well with my outfit,"_ Taeyong sneers, mimicking Yuta's words from earlier.

"This is _so_ fucked up," the Japanese man whispers to himself in disbelief. "Taeyongー"

He's cut off when he's tugged forward roughly by the tie. "I can't hold back much longer. How do you want it, Yuta? I _need_ to know," Taeyong mutters, voice thick with lust.

Yuta feels like he's going to _implode_ if Taeyong keeps looking at him in such a _sensual, triggering_ way. "I don't want to see. Blindfold me..." he ends up begging. He feels scared and out of his element making such a request; he and Taeyong were relatively vanilla in the past, with the elder always treating him like something precious and fragile during sex.

That was _then_ , though. This is _now_ , and Yuta doesn't want to be treated like before. What they're doing is _loveless_ and _wretched_ , so he doesn't deserve any soft treatment. "I don't care if you're rough. Just _touch_ me, _please_ ," he whimpers pathetically, shifting uncomfortably on the soft mattress. "I _need_ it..."

"I need it, too. Just focus on the _pleasure_ I'll give you in this moment. Nothing else matters right now," Taeyong breathes raspily. He removes all rings except the ruby one from Yuta and undoes his tie effortlessly. Then he gently commands Yuta to close his eyes.

His ex-husband shoots him a meek but trusting smile and closes his eyes. "Go ahead." Taeyong smiles as the younger gives him the okay and proceeds to blindfold him attentively.

Yuta whines a little as Taeyong finishes the knot he's working on. For the first time in a while, he feels completely _vulnerable_ and _exposed_ , and he's not even _naked_ yet. "Too tight?" he hears the elder ask.

Yuta reaches up to pat at his flushed cheeks. "Sorry, just my nerves. It's goodー"

 _"Good."_ Without warning, Taeyong _lunges_ at the younger man and steals a _sweet, shameless, filthy_ kiss.

It's his first real kiss after a year of singlehood, and it tastes _divine_. He feels like he'll get truly  _drunk_ if Yuta keeps up that delectable keening of his. And the carnal swipes of tongue against tongue, cheek, and teeth inspire Taeyong to claim _more_ than just that alluring red mouth.

Yuta wants to feel _angry_ , or at least _irritated_ , as Taeyong literally _shreds_ the designer clothes from both of their bodies like an animal. He feels good, though, _so, so good and alive_ as Taeyong's rough hands trace his smooth, bare skin with fiery passion and unsavory intent. "As beautiful as I remember," the Korean man muses against Yuta's lips, their hot breaths mingling. "Can I mark you?"

 _"No..."_ Yuta's protest is embarrassingly unconvincing. He licks his raw lips. "I... You...?" he stutters, confidence nowhere to be found as his illicit lover continues to feel him up.

"It sure doesn't sound like you meant what you said," Taeyong comments haughtily, shifting downwards to aggressively suck a hickey onto his lover's elegant neck. Yuta can only squirm and tangle his fingers in Taeyong's hair as the elder continues to brand him with more kisses and hickeys. "You always did look _divine_ with a bit of _black_ and _blue_ against your creamy skin..."

 _"Please,"_ Yuta starts to sob, feeling himself fall deeper into madness as Taeyong leaves a lingering kiss against one of his hip bones. "Don't make me beg for it..."

"But I _want_ to hear you beg, Yuta. Do you want me to _let you go_ , or _fuck you_ , or _what_? I won't know unless you tell me," Taeyong counters, relaxed and teasing as he moves back up to suck on Yuta's sensitive nipples. He decides that it's time to take things up a notch and starts to grind his aching erection against Yuta's, groaning at the _wonderful_ friction.

Yuta lets out a frustrated grunt at the _chaotic_ friction. He pulls a hand back from Taeyong's silky black locks, wanting to muffle his admittedly whorish sounds, but he feels Taeyong grab it and _slam_ it down onto the mattress in silent warning. _"Please..."_ he whimpers wantonly.

"You can do it, Yuta. Tell me what you want," Taeyong sings against his chest, nuzzling against the other man's rapidly beating heart in mock affection.

"Just... make me feel something. _Fuck me, I don't care_ ー" Yuta squeals a little in shock when he feels Taeyong spread his legs even further apart with his knees. The hand caging the younger man's wrist disappears, only to reappear a second later between his legs. It moves straight to his crack. "Taeyong, _don't_ ," he sniffles, the warm kisses against his cheeks doing little to distract him from the dry fingers tracing his entrance.

"I don't have lube or a condom, Yuta, and I'm not about to leave this bed to grab some stupid lotion," Taeyong informs, pecking his trembling lover almost apologetically. " _Relax_ , and _trust me_ , okay?"

By the time Yuta's hazy mind processes the words, Taeyong has already repositioned himself. Something _firm_ and _musky_ prods at the seam of Yuta's lips, and he takes it into his mouth with ease. Yuta may be rusty at sex and a complete idiotー part of him is still _very morally conflicted_ about _this entire ordeal_ ー but he _does know_ how to pleasure the man who was once his everything.

Taeyong's eyes roll back in pleasure as Yuta slurps expertly at his manhood; he releases a guttural moan and enthusiastically begins to thrust lightly into the other man's throat. Eager to please the younger, as well, he mouths at those succulent, supple thighs, and part of him wants to curse at how _awfully amazing_ it feels to _wreak havoc_ on the body beneath him.

He wants this more than he should.

He doesn't necessarily _love_ his ex-husband anymore or expect some new _friendship_ to be born between them, but his body is like a drug; it's a flame in the darkness, and Taeyong can't help but be drawn to it like a moth. He's never been with anyone but Yuta, yet a huge part of him strongly believes that _no one could ever compare, could ever give and take the way he likes it as well as his ardent ex-husband_. He secretly and worriedly thinks he'll _crave it forever_ , the feeling of the Japanese man's flawless, fairly submissive body against his.

Yuta groans around Taeyong's pulsating member in dismay as he feels the Korean man spread his inflexible lower half to lap at his entrance. Even if it did feel kind of gratifying to be _worshiped so intimately_ , he'd never felt comfortable with the depravity of the act; unable to draw back and vocalize his annoyance, he adjusts his grip around Taeyong's thighs, digging his nails into the firm flesh to show displeasure.

Ignoring the burning sting in his thighs, Taeyong focuses on the intoxicating feeling of Yuta's wet mouth and the task of prying open his tight hole. He insistently lashes at the uncontrollably twitching pink furl with his dripping tongue, _sucking, nipping, and prodding_ until it finally opens in defeat. His eyes flutter shut as the _familiar, sinfully pure_ taste of the spasming muscle surrounds his tongue. He happily tunes out Yuta's wailing as he busies himself with digging his tongue and some fingers in _as deep as possible_.

_So hot, so slick, so sweet, so..._

_His, perhaps._

"You fucking bastard, you know how I feel about you doing that!" Yuta indignantly sputters as soon as Taeyong pulls out of his mouth and gets back in between his legs.

A hard, patronizing kiss quickly puts a halt to the rest of his complaints, and the four fingers still banging his aching insides twist erotically. To make matters worse, the ring is purposefully being _dragged_ against his inner walls, and the sensation is _insane_. "Should've been more specific when begging, you stubborn bitch," Taeyong mumbles against his plush lips, yanking his fingers out and ramming his manhood in before Yuta can hurl another insult his way.

"Breathe, Yuta." Taeyong noses at the younger man's sweaty bangs and rubs the sensual curves of his sides with strained patience and clumsy comfort; he's yet to move his hipsー ever the gentleman, he waits for Yuta's permission to see through their _fall from grace_.

The pain in his ass is _excruciating_ , and they haven't even really done anything yet. But he _refuses_ to beg for a romp gentler than what he'd initially requested. Yuta knows for certain that Taeyong would give it to him gently if begged, but he's not going to.

Bad people don't deserve good treatment, after all. Yuta also doesn't want to degrade himself any further, as well; his masculine pride is already _in shambles_ from being subjected to his ex-husband's _torturous affections_.

"I said you could be _rough_ , right?" With that longing, breathy statement, Yuta seals his fate for the second time that night.

 

____

 

The headboard of the bed smacks into the wall repeatedly as they resume their _reprehensible_ coupling at a _frenetic_ pace. Hair is being pulled, skin is being bruised and scratched, tongues are waging war, hips are colliding relentlessly, and the _sounds_ ー the _lewd_ sounds of skin slapping against skin, of muffled curses and expressions of ardor, fill both men with an array of mixed emotions.

_Warmth._

_Pleasure._

_Relief._

_Nostalgia._

_Numbness._

_Self-loathing._

_Vulnerability._

_Confusion._

_Cold._

Round after round passes by in a blur. Yuta feels like he's trapped in a daze; he can't remember how many times he's orgasmed, or how many times Taeyong's orgasmed in himー he can only _thrash_ and _feel_. He's utterly _used and abused_ by this point, and as he feels the Korean man draw back after his nth orgasm of the night, he buries his face in the pillows and weeps a mantra of _"stop, too much."_

Eyes flickering beneath the tear-stained, makeshift blindfold, Yuta sniffles and waits with bated breath to be repositioned and fucked brutally once more. He can feel his ex-husband's eyes burning holes into his thoroughly ravished body, and he shifts anxiously. "Are we done?" the Japanese man inquires softly. _"Taeyong?"_

 _"I wish we could be,"_ Taeyong intones unreadably. He reaches out to run his fingers through Yuta's damp curls and against his pierced ears before removing the blindfold with a harsh tug.

After being freed, his younger lover slowly turns his head to regard him. Shimmering, teary doe eyes meet his own warily. "Why are you crying?" Yuta questions cautiously.

"Why are _you_?" Taeyong fires back half-heartedly, swiping at his eyes. He hadn't realized he was crying until Yuta said something. "Surely I wasn't _too hard_ on youー"

"Again, please?" The businessman gawks at his ex-husband in disbelief. He looks so _fragile_ , so _ruined_ , so _close to his breaking point_...

But he can't refuse when beseeched by his _guilty pleasure_. Despite the exhaustion gnawing at his bones, Taeyong scoops an equally exhausted Yuta up by the waist, carefully deposits him in his lap, and inserts his half-hard member into his sore, gaping entrance. _"Yuta..."_

Even with his eyes uncovered, Yuta refuses to look at the man whispering sin into his ears. He merely pushes his back against that firm chest and undulates his hurting hips.

Taeyong is internally relieved that Yuta doesn't want to look at him as they fuck; he's positive that neither of them would be able to handle eye contact during such a complicated exchange.

It'd be too _intimate_ , too _compromising_. In this moment, they need _ignorance_ more than the air they breathe.

 

____

 

"I don't think it'd be safe for you to take painkillers since you drank," Taeyong sighs, kissing his ex-husband's shoulder blade soothingly. After their last round, both of them had refused to move.

"I figured..." Mind fuzzy and eyes struggling to stay open, Yuta shifts in Taeyong's embrace and kisses at his neck with lazy finality. "Well, I should get goingー"

"I don't think you're ready to leave yet in your current state. But... you know... this _doesn't_ have to be a one time thing." Taeyong doesn't know where the words came from, and _dread_ invades his entire being when he realizes that he _doesn't regret saying them, doesn't regret putting so many things at risk_.

 _"What're you saying?"_ Yuta pulls away from Taeyong as if _burned_. Taeyong _can't_ be implying what he thinks he's implying, and he desperately tries to read his ex-husband's blank face. "Taeyong?"

"Don't play dumb. You know what I'm saying," Taeyong retorts. He pats Yuta on the thigh lightly, signaling him to get off. "I'll be right back. Need to do something."

As he watches Taeyong's splendid form walk away, Yuta feels _lost_. He sits alone on the soiled bed, lost in thought for what feels like _hours_.

Taeyong's offering him something _sordid_ , something that's neither _romance_ nor _friendship_.

_The appeal of it is so curious, so wrong, so dangerous, so..._

_Tempting?_

Yuta's eyes darken, his vision blurs, and he vaguely hears himself call out for Taeyong. Maybe he's dreaming, because the elder is before him in an instant, eyes shining with concern as he tries to determine whether Yuta is alright or not.

"Yuta?" It sounds like Taeyong's underwater, or in a different dimension altogether. _"You with me?"_

Taeyong's eyes widen in surprise when Yuta leans forward and brushes his lips against his. "I am..." he younger man starts in an unsteady whisper, _"but are you... with me?"_

_Perhaps it was a mistake to say hello, because now it seems impossible to say goodbye._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm debating on whether to make a series out of this. Like, I'd write more stories in this universe covering things like how JaeYong/YuSol met, what happens to each couple following the original story, the rise and fall of YuTae, etc...


End file.
